


Heri nandeo

by Varaen



Series: Fills for LLA 2016 [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: GFY, Gen, Rivendell | Imladris, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varaen/pseuds/Varaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imladris was her home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heri nandeo

**Author's Note:**

> For the 13.04. prompt: Landscapes  
> Heri nandeo means 'lady of the valley' in Quenya.

By the time the Lord of the valley returned from war and settled into his position, Celebrían had been living in Imladris for much longer than he ever had. She knew every tree and flower, the secret passageways as well as the hidden corners and took great delight in teasing Elrond by showing him around in his own home. Imladris may have been his idea, but she had transformed it from a refuge and a war camp into a real home. She had planted orchards on the southern slopes, and supervised the construction of smaller dwellings in the groves of the more shadowy north-facing hillsides. After the last soldiers had left the valley, she had laid out the fields and pastures in the lower ranges. She had designed the gardens that surrounded the main hall and filled the courtyards. Even the steepest inclines she had climbed herself to painstakingly redirect the myriads of rivulets and waterfalls.

Imladris was more of a home to her than Celebrían had ever had. For most of her life, she had followed her parents wherever they went, moving around all over the continent. Wherever they chose to go, they were welcomed, but the house was always very much her mother’s. Even her father had little choice but to bow to his wife’s wishes in this respect. She had seen much, but this was _hers_. She knew every crag and gentle slope, every boulder and sunny meadow. Over time, she had learned that she recognized if a storm was coming by the wind in the trees and could feel the current of the Bruinen across the whole valley. The trees whispered to her of the people that passed them, and flowers flourished whenever she walked past them.


End file.
